I used to think that pain could not kill you. A student of molecular, cellular, and developmental biology when beginning booked explorations, I learned much about synapses, the chemical transmissions of information, their processes, and such in fleshed form. These studies continued while training as a doula (a birth attendent) and one of my mantras & true beliefs was that pain cannot kill you. Literally, pain cannot kill you. It can alter your personality and perceptions, it can induce states of consciousness and unconsciousness never meet before, it can wrench and contract your muscles, trigger fear, make you shiver and shake, bring on tears, or screams, it can deplete the fuck out of you, it can make you clench your breath, long for home, and wish someone was holding you.
Pain can make you mad at yourself, mad at life, lose the mountain of patience you were born with that you thought would last the rest of your life. It can make you sick, and make you sicker, weaker, and unable to tread the waters of life. It can make you rely on others to feed and cloth yourself, to lift a small glass of water to your lips, or allow you to release the waters that flow out of the body. It can stop any and all healing from taking place, keep away the dimensional dream worlds where the gods often visit, and bring a dark veil of unrelenting clouds to our eyes and ears and mouths and tongues. It can isolate, push us away from having others seeing us so twisted in spirit and form, as well as allowing others to move themselves away from seeing the horrors of what pain can actually do to a person. It can suck all your life-force, lick by lick till the raw center is reached. It can kill you. It can take away your mind, your body, your self– forever. And does.
Pain can also heal you, teach you about the depths of the soul and the body and of all things sacred. Pain can melt your ego, your mind, your form into the watery abyss of nothingness. Pain can make you crouch before the gods like nothing else, asking for nothing, nothing at all. Pain can gift the explosion of self into all the molecules of the universe, with no form floating among the all that has been and will be. Pain can allow you to see beyond sight and sing without sound. Pain can create a womb, a place where you are feed by the beyond, by the invisible mothers, by the infinity of Existence, by the placenta of the Holy. Pain is pain. Pain is a teacher. Pain a holy being. Pain can change us like no other force in Existence. Pain is medicine. Pain is the hardest friend to make and love and honor and sit and have a cup of tea with.
This word “pain” comes from the Latin root meaning punishment; to atone for sins. Fuckin’ A - what if pain is a humongous exacting kiss from the Universe that’s hugging us so hard so that we may be able to hug back – not in the human worldly functioning way, but in the way that the Gods need, that the Ribbons of Time need, that we can gift if we learn to understand, if we allow its’ castings into our new molted forms. What if all the clenched twist and turns are what allow us to shape-shift into the new beings the world needs. What if I allowed it, stop fighting back, stopped hoping for it to go away, stopped clawing at my former life and expressions in this world, stopped fearing who I am turning into, stopped being afraid to die, and surrendered to this excruciating gift of a new self without expectation or judgment. What if this is one of the biggest gifts of my life that I will forever be grateful for and laugh a million laughs at myself for later.
Not what if, but great gratitude that I suffered and was kept in the dark for only months not years, that Life grants me this knowledge and knowing and deep faith, so that I may do the work, change acceptingly, flow with the pain towards the pool of what will be, who I will be, and the how. Not easy. Necessary. The only way to stay alive. To die well towards rebirth. To honor all the way in all ways. June 5, 2015
On the Shelf